


Forget-Me-Not

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Series: Dalton Big Bang 2018 [4]
Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: A cold dread rises in Julian's chest the moment he realizes he's fallen in love with Logan.It only deepens when he coughs, and a tiny blue petal flutters from between his lips.





	Forget-Me-Not

Julian had laughed, the first time he heard about the disease. It had come up briefly, in their freshman year health class. He remembers the titters from some of the boys at the ridiculous idea of it all, how fantastical it all sounds. He’d grinned a little too, picturing it. Flowers falling from someone's mouth, if they were unlucky enough to fall in love with someone who didn't feel the same. It sounded like something from a dark fairy tale, and Julian hadn't given the lesson much thought.

Then he’d come to his horrible realization, discovered that his feelings for Logan weren’t strictly platonic.

Logan had still been within shouting distance when Julian first coughed. He hadn’t turned, thankfully, hadn’t seen the horrified look on Julian’s face, his wide eyes as he stared at the single blue petal in his palm.

He hides it as best as he can.

It’s easy, when he’s hundreds of miles away. He flirts with boys. With girls. He goes on dates, both public and private. He steadfastly _does not text Logan_ , prays to gods he doesn’t believe in that these feelings will go away.

But then he goes back to school, and sees Logan’s face again.

The coughing fit that night results in a flurry of light blue petals across his carpet. He falls to his knees in tears, hastily collects them all and buries them deep in the trash.

He manages to keep it at bay in public. The coughing isn’t _too_ hard to hold back, if he really tries. It hurts more, when he coughs it up all at once, locked up safe and alone in his room. Holding back the petals in public doesn’t make them go away; it just keeps them hidden, trapped in his lungs until he forces himself to choke them up.

When it gets to be too much, he leaves again.

It becomes a pattern.

He can’t keep himself away from Logan forever, no matter how much it hurts. So he stays, until he can’t control it, then finds the first movie role he can get his hands on and takes off.

It works. He can handle it, like this. He’ll be fine.

But then Logan falls in love.

His name is Blaine, and he’s beautiful.

Logan’s whole _being_ changes when he talks about him. His face softens, his voice brightens. His music changes, his every emotion filling the notes that he plays and the words he sings.

Julian wants to keep that smile on Logan’s face for as long as he can. He does everything in his power to help. He gives Logan concert tickets, talks him up in front of Blaine, helps Logan plan dinner dates and picnics.

He plans, and he plots, and he pulls himself apart just for that smile.

Then, in the privacy of his bedroom, he suffocates.

He coughs up a handful of petals, gathers them in a pile as he has so many times before. He scoops them up, carries them to the trash can. Halfway there, there’s a sharp pain in his chest. He opens his mouth to cough, but nothing comes out. It _hurts_ , and he can’t fix it. Can’t _breathe._

Julian collapses to the floor, the petals in his hand fluttering around him in a cloud of blue. He struggles for breath, pounds on his own chest in a desperate attempt to dislodge whatever’s choking him. Finally, just as he’s starting to think this is _it_ , he gags, spits out a full sprig of forget-me-nots.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down.

He’s _sobbing_ , despite his attempts to control it. Gasping for breath, clutching at his throat. The spray of flowers lays across his lap, almost taunting him.

This time, when he leaves, he considers not coming back.

But then Derek calls, says Logan and Blaine are over, says Logan’s a _mess,_ says Logan _needs him_.

He can’t say no to that.

So he returns. He comforts Logan, promises him he’ll find someone worthy of him one day. Holds back the coughing, day after day after day.

The flowers still come.

He’s grown accustomed to the full sprigs of them, now. He finds ways to ease the pain — tea flavored with honey to ease his throat, medicine to induce vomiting, anything that brings the flowers up just a little bit quicker.

He can do this.

He handles Joshua Tipton. A series of fleeting crushes, of meaningless one-night stands.

Then Kurt Hummel comes along, clutching Julian’s death sentence in his delicate hands.

Julian _knows_ , from the moment he meets the boy, that this is different. He sees the way Logan stares, hears the way Logan sings.

He barely makes it to his room before he’s vomiting up more flowers than ever before. He has to pull them from his throat, has to reach into his own mouth and _yank_ until he’s able to breathe again.

Derek finds him there, curled up in the middle of his bedroom sobbing, a full bouquet of blue flowers clutched in his hands. He knows what's happening without even asking, has suspected Julian's feelings for some time now. He doesn't give Julian a choice when he drags him to the hospital. 

“You should have come sooner,” the doctor says, frowning at Julian’s x-rays, “We could have treated it, if we’d seen you when you first had symptoms.”

“But you can’t now?” Derek leans forward, hand clasped tightly around Julian’s, “There must be something. Medicine. Surgery.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” the doctor holds the x-ray to the light, pointing, “See here? They’ve rooted in your lungs, Mr. Larson.”

“Well what does that mean?” Derek presses, “What do we do?”

“Well…whoever it is. Whoever he’s in love with, they’ll have to return his feelings.”

Julian finally speaks up, part of him already knowing the answer to his question, “If they don’t?”

The doctor hesitates, “If they don’t…I’m sorry, Mr. Larson. If they don’t, you’ll die.”

He keeps talking after that. About how they can't predict a time table, how this disease is still a mystery to even the most capable physicians. It's all a dull roar in Julian's mind - he's going to  _die_ , all because he had the cruel misfortune of falling in love with Logan Wright.

Derek’s _shaking_ , on the drive back to school. It might be fear. Sadness. Anger. Julian’s too numb to tell.

“…you have to tell him,” he finally says, shakily, “Logan. You have to tell him. You have to tell him and he’ll…he’ll fix it. You’ll be okay.”

“No,” Julian shakes his head, “He would have to love me _back_ , D. He doesn’t. He can’t. He’d just…the guilt would destroy him. You know it would.”

“So you won’t even _try_?”

“What’s the point?” Julian’s voice comes out angrier than he’d meant, “He can’t fix this! But if I tell him — if he _knows —_ and then I die, he’ll blame himself. For the rest of his life. I can’t put that on him, D. I’d rather die than hurt him like that.”

“But that’s…that’s exactly what you’re saying, Jules. If you don’t do anything you’ll _die_.”

“I know. But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

He can feel Derek’s worried eyes on him, in the following days.

It only gets worse from there.

Each time Logan says Kurt’s name, each time Julian sees his eyes trailing after the boy, it gets worse. He can’t hide it anymore, can’t control the coughing and the choking and the vomiting.

He stops going to class three weeks after his fatal diagnosis.

Derek begs him, time and again, to tell Logan.

He refuses, each time.

He’d leave, if he could — fly as far away as possible, hope the distance buys him some extra time. But the disease progresses quicker than he thought. He can barely rouse himself from bed, can’t _move_ without bringing on another coughing fit.

Derek finally has no choice but to bring him to the hospital.

He’s carried out of Stuart House in the dead of night, Derek’s worried eyes drifting over to him throughout the drive. The doctors repeat what they’ve both already heard, whisper to Derek that there’s nothing that can be done.

He _will_ die. Soon.

The best they can do is keep him comfortable.

Julian begs Derek to keep this quiet, but there’s only so many excuses he can give.

On the day Logan barges into his hospital room, Julian can feel death looming over him. His lungs burn with every breath. No amount of honeyed tea, no coughing, _nothing_ helps the pain.

Except for Logan’s face.

When he bursts through the door, stares in abject horror at the blanket of flower petals covering Julian’s trembling body, Julian feels just the slightest bit of relief.

Logan is beautiful. So, so beautiful, and for a moment all Julian feels is _love_.

Then the coughing stars anew, and flowers spill from his mouth. He sees Logan’s expression change, morph from horror to confusion to despair. He moves forward, falls to his knees at Julian’s bedside and waits for the coughing to let up.

“Who is she?” His voice is even, but Julian hears the hidden rage behind it, “Who is it, Julian? Does she know?”

Julian couldn’t answer even if he wanted to. He hasn’t been able to talk in _days_ , not without excruciating pain. All he can manage is a bittersweet smile, his best attempt at reassuring Logan.

“I don’t understand,” Logan’s eyes are filling with tears, his face contorting as he fightsthem off, “I don’t…you’re _you_. Who wouldn’t love you back?”

He nearly laughs at that, the sound cut short by a fresh spray of petals dislodging from his throat. Logan’s hand moves on its own accord, long fingers pulling the flower from Julian’s lips. He stares down at it, eyes fixed on the sprig of forget-me-nots still damp with Julian’s saliva.

The door opens again, and Derek steps in, eyes widening when he sees Logan kneeling at Julian’s side.

“How long?”

Logan’s voice is cold, flat.

“Logan…”

“How _long_ , Derek? How long have you known? How long have you been _hiding_ this from me?”

“I promised,” Derek says, moving closer, “I wanted to tell you, but I promised him.”

“Why?” Logan looks unbearably hurt, head swiveling to stare at Derek instead, “Why would he _hide this_? Why would he…”

Julian watches the realization sink in. He sees the moment Logan connects the dots, sees the blood drain from his face when he understands _why_.

He turns back to Julian, shaking.

“No,” he says, “No, it’s…you can’t… _Julian_ …”

Julian reaches up, one hand weakly brushing across Logan’s face. His fingers wipe at the tears spilling down his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice barely audible through the pain and the burning, “I’m so _sorry_.”

“Just stay with me, okay?” Logan takes Julian’s hand in his own, clasps it tightly, “I…I love you, okay? Do you hear me? I love you, Julian.”

“It has to be true,” Derek says softly, “It has to be _true_ , Logan. And he has to believe it.”

Logan just squeezes tighter, “Believe it, Jules. Believe _me_. I love you, okay? I do, I love you.”

He’s trying so, so hard, and Julian’s never loved him more. He hates that he’s doing this to him, hates that he had to find out like this. But if he had the choice of how to die, he would’ve chosen this — Logan’s hand in his, Logan by his side, Logan saying _I love you_  as he stares into Julian's eyes.

Even if it’s a lie.

“I love you,” Logan says, as Julian’s throat fills with petals he can’t cough up.

“I love you,” he _sobs_ , as Julian’s eyes flutter shut.

“I love you,” as the color drains from his face, as his golden skin turns a sickly blue.

“I love you,” as Julian dies, cradled in Logan's trembling arms.

_I love you._


End file.
